


Metropolis Boom

by Feygan



Category: Powerpuff Girls, Superman (Comics)
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairing, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-12-16
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2017-10-13 17:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feygan/pseuds/Feygan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boomer Rowdy is tired of his life in Townsville and the fact that everyone knows he used to be a supervillain. He leaves the world behind and makes his may to the DC universe where he creates a new identity for himself. Boomer Rowdy/Clark Kent. slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

.

It was yet another perfectly sunny day in Townsville. Corresponding with the perfect weather were the annoyingly cheerful moods of the common Townsville citizenry. He was probably the only one moping around unhappy.

Brick had passed the Bar exam. He was now licensed to practice law. Butch was happily selling cars to gullible people. And Boomer was the only one without a job or any kind of plan for his future.

The life of a slacker somehow didn't appeal to him, especially since marijuana or any of the harder drugs had no effect on him. He didn't even have the luxury of getting drunk, since alcohol was like water to his superhuman metabolism. It just wasn't fair.

Four years of college should have given him some idea about what he wanted to be, but he was still wallowing in general cluelessness. The fact that he was the only one of the Rowdy's so afflicted just made it worse.

All those years ago when they had decided they were someday going to grow up and be men and needed to start acting like it, they had put aside the "Rowdyruff Boys" and become Brick, Butch and Boomer Rowdy, non-supervillain teenagers. It had taken a lot of effort, but they had caught up to their age group academically and started junior high. From there they had lived the lives of normal teens and had largely ignored the fact that they had been created rather than born. They hadn't really even used their superpowers for anything more than the occasional bread-to-toast breakfast or a bit of ice breath to quick-cool a drink. It was like they were _normal_ , and it was cool.

They made friends. They had fun. And they grew up, graduated high school and went to college, even if Butch only managed to last a year before dropping out and getting the job at the dealership. It was a nice way to live.

It was just that Boomer was realizing how boring their lives were. Brick and Butch were living nine-to-five and Boomer wanted something more than that, but it just wasn't happening.

Maybe he could have become a superhero, but the Powerpuff Women had that role all buttoned up in Townsville and a superpowered _freak_ wasn't really welcomed in any other city. Besides, he had a past as a villain to contend with and even though everyone said that what he'd done as a child was forgiven, he still occasionally felt the condemning stares burning through him.

The people of Townsville were largely good, but that didn't mean they were quick to forgive someone that wronged them. And back in the day, Boomer and his brothers had gone out of their way to break as many laws as possible, up to and including trying to beat the Powerpuff Girls to death and there had been a couple of times when they had even managed it. The Powerpuffs had always bounced back, but that had only been luck.

Looking back, Boomer couldn't believe that had even been him. He just couldn't relate to the little boy whose sole desire was to cause trouble. Sure, he'd been more mischievous than evil, but the damage he and his brothers had done was real.

He had a lot of regrets, but he truly was a different person. He had consciously made the choice to change his life and he was proud of that and wouldn't wish things different.

Boomer of the Rowdyruff Boys was gone, but Boomer Rowdy still needed to get a job.

.

"Why so sad, Boomer me lad?" Seamus O'Flaherty asked as he passed over the hotdog.

Boomer sighed as he paid his two dollars. He took a big bite out of his hotdog before answering. "I need to get a job," he said. "Both Butch and Brick have _careers_ , but I'm still wandering around with my thumb up my ass."

"Now, now, there's no need for that kind of language," Seamus chided.

Boomer sighed and nodded. "Sorry. I'm just really frustrated. I should have my whole life planned out, but I don't have clue one."

"Maybe you're looking at things the wrong way," Seamus said.

"What do you mean?" Boomer asked.

Seamus looked at him seriously. "I remember how you were when you were younger," he said. At Boomer's half-ashamed look, he held up a hand. "I don't care about that, I was just mentioning it so you knew that I knew what resources you have at hand. You have superpowers, it's a fact. So if you wanted, you could pretty much do whatever you wanted to do, even leave Townsville. Heck, you could even leave the world if you wanted."

"Leave the world?" Boomer said. "Now there's an idea. Talk about leaving for somewhere where I'm completely unknown."

He tried not to be, but he couldn't resist feeling a bit charmed about being completely unknown to a new bunch of people. He could be whoever or whatever he wanted and there would be no one that could deny the truth of it. All together a _very_ nice thought.

To be a new man with no preconceived notions of what he was like hanging over his head would be a nice way to live. He would have no kind of reputation and could make whatever kind of life he wanted for himself. All those suspicious gazes would just melt away and Boomer Rowdy could be accepted as just a normal man.

"You know what?" he said. "That's actually a pretty good idea."

"Huh?" Seamus looked surprised. It wasn't often that anyone took his advice as anything more than the semi-intelligent ramblings of a hotdog vendor. Like the fact that he spent his life selling boiled meat meant that he was automatically relegated to the role of halfwit. They never thought that maybe he liked spending his days outside in the lovely Townsville weather and that he actually made a pretty good profit, selling hundreds of hotdogs a day at $2 a piece. No, to the world he wasn't as smart as the average chipmunk and his advice meant less than nothing. So it was a real surprise to have someone-anyone-listen to him seriously.

"That's actually a pretty good idea," Boomer repeated. "On another world I could make a new life from scratch and be _anything_ I wanted and there wouldn't be any preconceived notions of my character hanging over my head. Of course, I wouldn't go to another planet, just to another reality, but still... very good advice. Thanks."

He walked off whistling while Seamus O'Flaherty still stood there gaping. Boomer was just so excited.

He had a bunch of plans to make, but it seemed like he had a general plan for the future. He just had to tell his brothers and ready himself for his brand new life.

It was going to be a wonderful adventure.

Metropolis was a real city, even realer than Townsville somehow. It had a gritty feel to it, though from what he'd already heard about Gotham, it was a veritable paradise when compared to some other cities. Especially that cesspit Blüdhaven.

He'd only been in Metropolis a month, but he'd already gotten himself a job and rented an apartment. He didn't have much in the way of furniture, but it was only a matter of time before he had himself a pretty good life here.

It hadn't taken much real effort to forge himself a history. And now he was in the bank about to open a bank account in order to create himself a future. He felt very proud of himself.

So of course someone had to ruin it for him.

A random patrol interrupted by the echo of screams, then the blaring wail of silent alarms. The Metropolis National Bank was being robbed.

Clark was feeling depressed. His four year relationship with Lex had just fallen apart, mostly because of all the secrets they both had-Clark's as a superhero alien, and Lex's as a supervillain. So the bank robbery couldn't have come at a better time. He had a lot of frustrations to get out, and here was his chance.

No matter how aggravated his everyday life made him, Clark was always careful to curtail his strength as Superman. Most of the guys he went up against, no matter how evil, had normal human strength and he could easily kill them without even trying. It was a sobering realization.

A lifetime of pretending to be human had drilled control into him, and he always used it. Anything to keep from ever being labeled a freak by the people he tried so hard to protect. And nobody would ever say that he had a messiah complex. That was the last accusation Lex had thrown after him as Clark stormed out of the penthouse.

With his cape fluttering behind him, Clark landed on the bank's front steps, slamming through the double doors with a carefully modulated human strength.

"Stop, Superman," a harsh voice ordered. "Make one wrong move and I'll snap his neck like a twig."

Clark stilled himself, knowing that to human eyes he was suddenly as immovable and lifeless as a statue. "Just let the hostage go and put down your guns. Come quietly and everything will be all right."

The bank robber snorted. "I don't think so, Supes. Ya see, me and the boys here are going to walk out of here untouched. And if you make one move I don't like, this guy's gonna die."

Clark was surprised to see that instead of being terrified, the handsome blond man just looked exasperated. He stood there with the bank robber's arm around his throat and leg jutting between his and rolled his eyes.

Clark had never seen someone whose physical form so typified arrogance. Not even Lex Luthor could pull off such a complete image of superiority.

When Clark met his gaze, the man rolled his eyes again and quietly sighed.

His luck was unbelievably bad. Just minding his own business and waiting in line to open a bank account and he's taken hostage by an obvious idiot.

"You're kidding me, right? _You're_ going to take _me_ as a hostage?" He couldn't help the smirk that shaped his lips. "Okay. I like a bit of fun."

Standing in the grasp of the bank robber, Boomer kept his eyes on the blue clad figure posed before them. This was his first up close look at Superman. He'd tried to stay off the hero's radar, but here he was now.

"Don't worry, sir," Superman said, glancing at Boomer. "Everything is going to be all right."

Boomer rolled his eyes at the disposable superhero chatter. It was always the same no matter the hero.

Looking at Superman, Boomer had to wonder, 'What the hell?'

A gorgeous bit of buff dark haired, golden skinned superhero dressed in a blue spandex body stocking, red boots, and a blazing red cape. Boomer had to wonder how anyone could take the guy seriously. The costume was ridiculous.

How anyone could think Superman was straight was a real mystery. From the big "S" emblazoned on his chest to his yellow underwear as outerwear, it was obvious that Superman was gayer than a three dollar bill.

Boomer stood still in the bank robber's grasp, accommodating the directional nudges he was given. If he hadn't wanted it, there was no way the man could have moved him, but he wanted to see how this situation was handled. Superman was no Powerpuff Woman and it showed.

"I advise you to let him go and give yourself up," Superman said.

The robber made a sound of derision. "Tell me Supes, has that ever really worked for you or do you think I'm stupid enough to be the first?"

Superman got a determined look on his face and blurred into action. He moved so fast that no normal human could have seen him.

Which made it a bit of a surprise when the bank robber tossed Boomer out of the way-and across the room-so he could grip Superman in a headlock. The superhero almost immediately got out of it, but it _had_ happened.

"Looks like I'm not as easy as you thought," the robber taunted. "I used to work for Lex Luthor. There was a bit of an accident and, well, I got some very powerful new skills."

Boomer, with his superhearing, was probably the only one that heard Superman mutter, "Shit."

Then stuff really started happening.

Lounging on the floor where he had fallen, Boomer watched interestedly as Superman and the here-as-yet unnamed bank robber got into it: superhero versus guy with superstrength and near invulnerability. The guy couldn't fly, but he could really do some damage to the normal humans that hadn't run away yet.

The robber's buddies were standing with their guns aimed at the hostages while they watched their leader take on Superman. One was laughing maniacally as he joggled around. "Yeah man, yeah man, go, go, GO!"

Boomer shook his head and turned his attention back to the fight. It was obvious that Superman was going to win. Years of superhero experience had let him pick up some tricks that a guy just gaining superstrength couldn't match.

As Superman was getting him in a painful looking arm lock, the guy suddenly twisted and jerked his necklace from around his neck, popping a secret latch. Radiant green light flooded the area around the two figures.

Superman suddenly seemed to sag. Sweat burst out of his face and his arms trembled with stain. Black veins pulsed across his grey-cast skin.

"Working for Luthor, you find out a few things. Like what can make Superman squirm. It would be so easy to kill you now." He pulled out of Superman's weakened grasp and stepped away.

Without the support of someone to hold onto, Superman fell to his knees. It looked painful for him to lift his head to look at the bank robber. He opened his mouth to say something, but a hissing gasp was all that came out.

A mean smirk twisted the bank robber's face. "Hurts to be this close to a chunk of rock, don't it?" He laughed and slammed a fist into Superman's face with a CRUNCH of broken bone.

Superman fell limply backward, his crushed nose awash in blood. He couldn't even bring up his arms to block as the guy drew back his leg for a powerful kick.

It was obvious that whatever the green light was, it sapped Superman's strength to the point of helplessness. And now this guy was going to take advantage of that weakness and beat Superman to death.

"What's the deal, big blue?" Boomer demanded, climbing to his feet. "You were so taking this guy."

Superman tried to turn his head, but he was too weak. Whatever that light was, it was sending jolts of pain through him.

Realizing that Superman was totally out of it, Boomer shrugged. "Whatever." He jumped into the air and flew toward the bank robber, slapping him back and away from Superman.

"It's kind of weird helping the good guys, but my therapist suggested I try new things." BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! He slammed his fists into the guy's body, easily beating the crap out of him without using even a fraction of his strength.

"You really picked the wrong bank to rob today," Boomer said, breaking the man's arm just above the elbow. He laughed at the sound of splintering bone, a thrill going through him at being able to hurt someone again. "I was happy just being Joe-normal, but you _had_ to mess with that. It kind of makes me a little angry." He broke the guy's leg with a step-twist of his foot. "Angry enough that maybe I should just finish you. There's no reason to give you the chance to escape from prison and try for revenge. That was always the Powerpuffs' mistake. If it was me, I would have just _killed_ Mojo-Jojo before he could do some of the _really_ bad shit he came up with. But I guess the death of the Professor taught them the error of their ways."

Boomer clamped his hands on each side of the man's head, braced his knee in the guy's spine, and began to _twist_.

"Stop!" The voice was ridiculously weak, but it snapped with authority.

Boomer turned his head to look at Superman. The hero had managed to make it to his knees and was trying to pull himself across the floor to save the life of someone that had just tried to kill him. Typical superhero insanity.

"This yahoo was about to kill you," he said. "Why the hell do you want to save him for? He's a complete waste of space."

"I... I don't kill people. That's what separates me from the bad guys that I try to stop," Superman gasped.

Boomer raised an eyebrow. "And what do your morals have to do with me? I'm not trying to be a superhero. I'm just... having fun and trying to lend you a hand."

"If you kill him, then I'll have to bring you in to the police," Superman said, his muscles trembling convulsively.

Boomer shook his head and sighed. "That's what's so stupid about you hero types. You spend so much time saving people from villains, then saving the villains from themselves that you lose all touch with reality. This asshole was going to kill you. After he's locked up, he's just going to break out and come after you again, and maybe next time he'll _really_ kick your ass."

"Still. Please, please don't kill him," Superman said.

Meeting Superman's eyes, and seeing the pleading words he would never say aloud, Boomer sighed and released the bank robber. "Whatever. I'll let him live just because you asked me."

He focused on the necklace around the guy's neck and a red beam shot out of his eyes. The chunk of green rock disappeared in a puff of smoke, leaving no trace behind.

"There," Boomer said. "You take care of him now."

He stepped back and crossed his arms, watching to see what was going to happen now.

As soon as the rock was taken out of the equation, Superman was on his feet and superspeeding around the room, snatching the guns out of the hands of the other bank robbers and tying them up with rope that he got from _somewhere_. Then he stood over the superstrengthed bank robber and frowned down at him for a moment, probably checking him out with his X-ray vision.

"Call the police," Superman said, turning to look at the bank manager. The guy nodded quickly and ran off to do just that.

"Well, looks like the fun's done here," Boomer said. "I really don't think I want to do business with this bank though. I don't want my money to get stolen." He started heading toward the doors.

"Wait," Superman called, walking after him with that straight backed, stick-up-his-ass walk of his. "Who are you?"

Boomer looked over his shoulder at him and smiled. "I don't think I'll be telling you that just yet. Maybe later. If you ask nice."

He zipped off at his fastest speeds, moving so fast that the buildings of Metropolis trembled at his passage. He was careful to curtail his wake though, not wanting to start any fires or destroy the pavement beneath his feet. It had taken him years to learn how to compact the bubble of force that surrounded him when he traveled at superspeeds so that he didn't end up destroying the world around him.

 _So that was Superman_ , Boomer thought. _He was kind of cute_.

He smiled.

Clark really didn't know what had happened, but he had a definite feeling that the entire dynamic of his life had just been irrevocably changed. And he really wasn't sure if that was a bad thing or not.

Whatever it was going to mean, the mysterious stranger really was a good looking man.

Letting the police take charge of the bank robbers, he idly rubbed his already healed nose. As soon as the kryptonite was gone, there had been the snapping-pop of cartilage rearranging itself and his nose was once again straight. The pain had already relegated itself to memory.

 _Who was that guy?_ he thought.

He was usually able to sense anyone of Kryptonian blood, but he hadn't felt that thrill over his nerve endings from the guy that he got when he met one of his birth people. And the man hadn't even reacted to the kryptonite. Yet he'd had superstrength, superspeed, and heat vision, all gifts that Kryptonians gained from the Earth's yellow sun and that natives didn't naturally possess.

Barely waiting until the police made their appearance, he zipped off. He needed to be back to work before Mr. White realized that he hadn't just taken a slightly longer than usual lunch break. He really didn't need the trouble of having to deal with a sarcastically angry Lois Lane. He'd been the source of amusement for her before, especially before he and Lex Luthor broke up for the final time.

Changing back into his work clothes, he entered through the Daily Planet's double doors. He really needed to get his mind back on track.

Their brother was gone.

From the moment they were created it had been Brick, Butch and Boomer Rowdy. No matter where they went or what they did, they had always had each other. But now things were different. Boomer had disappeared somewhere and the only thing he had left behind was a note.

.

 **To Brick and Butch,**

 **Lately I have been feeling as though there is no place for me in Townsville. I have no clear set career path and no matter what I think of doing, I can't help but notice the way that people look at me, as though I am still a Rowdyruff Boy and I'm about to cause trouble and try to take over the world or something.**

 **I was talking to this guy the other day and he suggested that**   
**what I needed was a change of environment, and I can't help but to agree with him. So not only am I leaving Townsville, but I'm leaving the world as well.**

 **I want to see what else the multiverse has to offer, so I'm going to search out another Earth, one where I am completely unknown and can make a fresh impression on the people there.**

 **Maybe someday I will come back to Townsville and see you guys, but for now...**

 **You guys are the best brothers a guy could ever have and I will always think of you and hope that you're both doing all right.**

 **Your Brother,**

 **BOOMER**

.

"I wonder how he's doing," Butch said, kicking back on the couch with his bare feet on the coffee table in front of him.

Brick grunted a noncommittal sound. He was sitting in the recliner with the remote control in his hand, idly flicking through television channels without seeing what was on.

"Do you think he's all right?" Butch asked.

"Don't know."

"What if something happened, do you think he'd be able to make it back here?"

Grunt.

"What if he's trapped on some world and the natives are trying to kill him even as we speak. He could be in real danger right now."

Grunt.

"I really miss him. I've never really thought about what it would be like without Boomer here." Butch sighed heavily. "I hope he's all right and that he's going to come home soon."

Brick just changed the channel.

"Do you think..."

Brick threw the remote control on the coffee table with a clatter. "Look, Butch, I have no idea how Boomer is doing, whether he's all right or not or anything. He just left and anything could be happening to him right now and I don't know what to do about it so just leave it the fuck alone."

"But..."

Brick growled, "Leave it alone. Boomer was the one that decided to leave. He's gone and there's nothing we can do about it."

Butch raked a hand through his dark hair. "I'm just worried about him. Anything could be happening to him out there, and there's no way we could hear him even if he called for us. He could be _dead_ right now for all we know."

"So what do you want to do?" Brick demanded.

"Find him. I want to find Boomer and ask him if this is really what he wants to do or if he wants to come home. And even if he wants to stay wherever he is, it would totally make me feel better to know where he's at and whether he's alive or not."

Brick looked down at his hands in his lap, seeing how smooth that last manicure had made them, his nails neat and clean. It had been a long time since he'd hit someone with a snot bomb or farted colors. He had really grown up and so had his brothers, but they were still as close as they had always been.

He remembered the time the Powerpuff Girls had captured Boomer and replaced him with Bubbles in disguise. Neither he nor Butch had realized that she wasn't actually their brother, and after it was all said and done, they had felt terrible about it. _Anything_ could have happened to their brother and they never would have known because they hadn't taken care of him the way they were supposed to.

They all three may have been created at the same moment, but they had a definite idea of what roles each of them were meant to fill. Brick was the leader; Butch was the aggressive fighter that watched his brothers' backs; and Boomer was the most vulnerable of them, filling the role of younger brother almost too easily.

In some way, as they had grown up, Brick and Butch had silently agreed to keep an eye on Boomer and protect him from whatever the world might throw at him. He was somehow younger than them and definitely less worldly.

They had decided that there was never going to be a repeat of Boomer being kidnapped without them noticing. He was undeniably the most vulnerable of the Rowdys, and now he was in some other universe searching for something that he was probably never going to find.

Brick had known that Boomer was unhappy, even if Butch was so caught up in his own life that he hadn't noticed anything at all. Ever since they'd found the note saying that Boomer was leaving, Brick had been kicking himself for not noticing what move his brother was going to make.

"Do you think he would be mad if we just showed up and said we were worried about him?" Brick asked.

Butch may not have looked it or acted it, but when he finally got his head out of his ass and decided to pay attention to someone, he actually had some pretty good insights about their state of mind.

"He'll be surprised," Butch said, "but he's still our brother, and you know that Boomer loves us. He may have been unhappy living his life, but that's not going to make stop him from loving us and wanting to see us. He'll be surprised, but I'm pretty sure he'll be glad to see us. And anyway that you look at it, _we_ need to see him and make sure he's all right one way or another."

"All right, then," Brick said. "We won't quit our jobs or anything, but we'll use our free time to search for him until we find him. And we'll make sure he knows that if he ever needs us, we'll be there, no questions asked. Because no matter what happens, he is and always will be our brother."

They slapped palms over the coffee table. "Rowdys forever!"

One of the skills he'd picked up over the years was the ability to get a computer network to do pretty much whatever he wanted. So it really hadn't been all that hard to create a new identity for himself, especially since the level of technology on this Earth was a bit lagging from that of home. They hadn't had a Professor Utonium to completely revolutionize the computer and automotive industries. He was glad of that now, since it made his little scam easier and he was actually able to give himself a college education to match the one that he'd left behind.

It had only taken him a week and a half to get a good job at Dekker Games designing and playing computer games. It was a great job and if he stayed on this world he wouldn't mind making a career of it.

The hours were pretty much whatever he wanted them to be as long as he got his work done on time. And with superspeed, as long as he knew what he wanted to do, it didn't take him long to code a complete game. His biggest concern was trying to keep his speed down to a normal human ability. There was no accepting an assignment in the morning and handing the completed product to his boss in the afternoon when the whole thing should have taken a month at the least.

Things weren't quite perfect in this world, but he had found a place where he could be moderately content, and that was better than the blah life he left behind.

That whole run in with Superman was kind of freaking him out. He didn't want to think of the guy looking around for him, trying to figure out who he was and where he was currently hiding. He really didn't want to be found by Superman, because that would just be all kinds of trouble and a load of questions he really didn't want to answer.

This world had so many more superheroes than he was used to. It sometimes seemed as though he couldn't step out his building door without being witness to some kind of super battle of some kind or other. It was rather disconcerting, though he really didn't want to end up one of the tight-brigade. That would just be many levels of lame.

He had given up dreams of being a superhero when he was a kid. That whole supervillain phase hadn't lasted more than a few years. And just because he had superpowers didn't mean he wanted to go out and use them to save the world.

So he was kind of hating the fact that he had put himself on Superman's radar, because he had a definite feeling that the guy wouldn't leave stuff well enough alone. But on the other hand...

Lounging back in his desk chair, his feet propped on the open middle drawer of the filing cabinet, he idly bounced a squeaky ball against the wall. He was trying to think about what he was supposed to do next and wasn't having very much luck.

On the one hand he knew that having his secret identity revealed was supposed to be a bad thing, but on the other... He had never had to hide who he was before. He had always been Boomer Rowdy, with a mile long reputation for childhood destruction and mayhem. He simply didn't know how to lie convincingly for long periods of time.

"Maybe I _should_ talk to Superman?" he mused aloud. "Or should that be... Clark Kent?"

It was a good thing he couldn't have heart attacks, because walking back into the newsroom with Lois after chasing down another fruitless lead, he got the shock of his life when he found the blond guy from the bank robbery sitting at his desk.

"Whoa, who's _that_?" Lois purred appreciatively. "He's fuckin' gorgeous."

"Lois!"

She gave him limpid eyes. "What? _You_ don't think he's gorgeous, farm boy?"

Clark sighed. "As you wish," he murmured.

"What was that?" she asked sharply, her raptor eyes trying to gouge through him.

"I said, whatever you think."

"That's right." She flounced forward, her hand coming up. "Hello, I'm Lois Lane, and who might you be?"

The guy just looked at her hand for a long moment, then shrugged and stood, taking it in his own, flipping it to place a gentle kiss against the pulse point at her wrist. "Just as beautiful _and_ intelligent as your articles suggest. My name is Boomer Rowdy."

"Boomer?" she asked. "Is that your real name or a nickname for something?"

A faint smile touched his lips. "My... father wasn't exactly the most imaginative sort. My brothers are Butch and Brick. I feel like I got off pretty lightly."

Lois laughed one of her more annoyingly cheerful laughs, the one that always set Clark's teeth on edge and made his balls want to draw up into his body. He may have been nearly invulnerable, but that laugh? It made him feel like she was going to eat him alive, literally.

Boomer gave an imperceptible shudder, but his friendly smile never wavered. His blue eyes flicked over to Clark and it was like Clark could hear his voice inside his head. _Can I kill her_?

Clark shook his head, wondering where that had come from. He had only briefly met Boomer and didn't even know the guy, yet he was mentally giving him the persona of a ruthless killer? Too many years around Lex had warped his perceptions about good looking guys, turning them all into megalomaniacs and broody nay-sayers, though that last had to come from his time around Bruce.

"So, what brings you here?" Lois asked in her "flirty" voice. It mostly sounded like her normal cigarette-induced throaty voice, but with a bit of the ball-breaking edge sheared off.

Boomer shrugged. "I needed to talk to Clark about something."

"You know Clark?" Lois asked, raising an eyebrow.

Boomer shrugged again. "We met briefly." His eyes turned to focus on Clark, a surprisingly sharp look. "Didn't we?"

Clark felt his smile trying to congeal, but he held onto it through pure force of will, though he wasn't quite sure if it was even a smile anymore or just a pained grimace. "Yeah, briefly." He turned to Lois. "Look, Lois, I think I'm going to take Boomer here to lunch so we can talk. I'll help you write up the rest of that story when I get back, okay?"

Her curiosity was obvious and it was only politeness that kept her from trying to shake the answers out of him, but he was glad that he had managed to train at least a modicum of interpersonal skill into her over the years. It had been a long and hard task, teaching Lois Lane what privacy was and why some people thought it was important, but it was worth it at times like this when she allowed him to escape without tearing the answers she wanted out of his skin.

"Come on," he said, grabbing Boomer's arm and dragging him out of there.

Neither one said anything during the elevator ride down to the lobby, though Clark caught himself giving the guy the hairy eyeball quite a few times. Boomer looked completely relaxed, like he didn't even feel Clark trying to burn a hole through him.

As soon as they were outside, Boomer turned to him with a bright smile. "So, where do you want to eat lunch? I'm thinking Italian, what about you?"

Clark growled wordlessly and gripped his arm with more strength than he would ever use on a normal human; Boomer didn't even seem to notice. Clark dragged him down the street to the nearest alley, quick-changed into his Superman uniform, and from there flew off in a blur of red and blue to the Fortress of Solitude.

"Whoa!" Boomer spun around, his eyes taking in the crystal and ice. "This is an awesome lair. Way better than the treehouse me and my brothers had to put up with."

"All right, who are you?" Clark demanded in his deeper, darker Superman voice, looming over the slightly shorter man.

Boomer looked at him in amusement, not an ounce of fear anywhere in him. "Like I told your partner, my name is Boomer Rowdy. And I just wanted to ask you a few questions."

"What questions?" Clark asked suspiciously.

Boomer wandered a little away from him to look down at a control console curiously. "Huh," he said, "this is kind of weird, but definitely cool. Anyway, I just wanted to know how you manage to have a secret identity? I mean, how do you keep yourself from using your powers or just blurting out the truth?" He turned to look at Clark, his eyes achingly clear.

Clark didn't quite know what to say. "Huh?"

"Seriously, man, I'm trying to play the normal guy and it's getting to be really hard. I have to stop myself from doing things I never had to even think about before, like when I almost heated up my coffee the other day at work, or when I had to stop myself from beating up that Green Lantern jerk for stealing my parking space with his stupid javelin. I mean, how lame is that? I'm just not used to all the lying and everything, which is why I'm here. How do you do it, man? How do you separate Clark Kent from the naturally superpowered portion of your life?"

Of all the questions he had expected to be asked, Boomer had managed to surprise him with something way out of left field. "I don't... I'm not really sure how I'm supposed to answer that."

Boomer blew out an annoyed breath. "Man, this sucks so bad. When I came to Metropolis I thought it was going to be easy, you know? I would get the chance to start over and fresh in a place where no one knows who I am. I just never thought about what that would really mean. Everyone at home knows me, knows what I can do, and they're really pretty accepting, even the ones that don't like me. Yet here I am, this complete unknown, and I'm trying to be a regular guy and I... I just don't know how to do it. I've never had a secret identity before. I've always just been Boomer Rowdy."

Clark stared at the guy for a long moment, not knowing what he was supposed to say. Finally, he couldn't help blurting out, "Who _are_ you?"

"I told you, my name is Boomer Rowdy," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Where did you come from?" Clark asked. "Are you an alien or from the future or something?"

Boomer sighed. "Dude, it's kind of hard to explain, but... I'm from an alternate reality where everything is totally different. I came here to get away from my old life and the kind of reputation I had there."

"Reputation? For what?" Clark asked.

"Nothing much," Boomer said, though there were hints of secrets in his voice. "I was young and stupid and I was kind of in the wrong crowd, listening to the wrong influences. I mean, I was only like five years old, yet people are still holding it against me today. Besides, I just couldn't seem to find the kind of life I wanted there. I'm just out of college and I really don't want to be a slacker and my brothers have both found their niches, they just know what they want to do with their lives and I still don't have clue one. So I came here, you know, just looking around for something new, and so far, I'm having fun, and that's good."

"I think... I think..." Clark drew in a deep breath. This guy had something about him that was completely throwing him for a loop, forcing him to be Clark even when he was trying his hardest to be Superman. "I think I need to take you to talk to some people."

"Who?" Boomer asked.

Clark just shook his head, grabbed Boomer's hand in his own, and jerked him up in the air. And though he knew the guy could fly, Boomer let him do all the work.

They were traveling at superspeed and were almost through the stratosphere when Clark thought to ask, "You can hold your breath for awhile, right?" He really didn't want to kill the guy, but he simply hadn't thought before he started flying.

"Yeah," Boomer said, "for awhile. I mean, me and the boys used to play baseball on the moon or we'd do flybys on Mars, so it's not a big deal."

Clark didn't know what to think about that. He just gripped Boomer's hand a little tighter and flew a little faster until they broke through and were in the emptiness of space, the Earth a round ball beneath them.

He turned himself until he spotted the blinking marker lights of the Watchtower. "There," he said, though there was no sound. He zoomed off toward the welcome of the Justice League headquarters.

Batman must have been on watch because he didn't even have to announce he was coming in before the doors were already opening. Clark zipped through with Boomer, already trying to think up what he was going to say about the unexpected guest he was bringing. Batman really didn't like surprises.

"Hey, who's that with Supes?" Flash asked, peering through the monitor.

"That is what I'm trying to find out," Batman growled, tabbing through profiles in the database.

"He doesn't have a suit on," Flash observed. "Maybe he's Kryptonian, like Superman."

"Perhaps," Batman said, his eyes flicking back and forth from Superman and the unknown man going through decontamination, and his screen of metahuman profiles.

"Still haven't ID'd him, huh?" Flash said.

Batman sighed heavily and didn't deign to give him a reply, just kept right on running his searches.

.

Superman brought his "friend" to the main room. Batman was already waiting, having passed his watch rotation on to Martian Manhunter.

"Who's he?" Flash asked, zipping around the guy, getting a look at him from all angles, giving him superfast pokes with his fingers light enough that he shouldn't have been able to feel it.

Which was why it was such a surprise when the guy's hand shot out on Flash's second rotation to grab Flash by the arm and swing him around and down, slamming his shoulder hard against the ground. Flash yelped and groaned, making a move to get up only to freeze when the guy's sneakered foot pressed against the back of his neck, keeping him down.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you, 'look but don't touch?' Poking someone you don't even know... that's kind of rude, don't you think?" the blond purred.

"Get off of him," Superman said, though he sounded more tired than angry.

"Aw, come on Big Blue, don't I even get to have a _little_ bit of fun? Besides, he started it. I think it's only fair that I finish it for him." The guy looked up at Batman, a smirk twisting his lips. "Hey, you're Batman, aren't you? Wow, you're actually pretty good looking under that mask of yours. Do you _bat_ for my team, and if you do, is your big thing catching or pitching?"

Batman growled threateningly, which only made the guy laugh. "Who are you?" Batman demanded. "Why are you here?"

"My name's Boomer Rowdy, and Cl... Superman brought me, though I really don't know why."

"Can... can you get off me?" Flash asked, his hands pressed flat against the floor as he tried to push himself up. The guy had to have superstrength to keep him down, because no matter how hard he strained, that foot didn't move a centimeter.

Boomer bent down until his face was in front of Flash's. He had some incredibly blue eyes, sparkling with not entirely unfriendly amusement. "Are you gonna be a good boy?"

"Yes!" Flash cried.

With a warm chuckle, Boomer straightened and stepped back, watching as Flash zipped back up to his feet and halfway across the room. He snorted a little when Flash hid behind Wonder Woman, peeking around the safety of her shoulder. "You're cute too," Boomer said. "Maybe if you weren't such an asshole, we could have a good time."

"What are you, in heat?" Wonder Woman asked, the muscles of her arms flexing and twitching a little at having a man lean against her. Flash was a teammate, but he was still a man.

Boomer laughed. "Wow, you're a rude one, aren't you? What, they didn't teach you manners on your island of butch women?"

Superman grabbed his shoulder in a white knuckled grip that had the others wincing and waiting for the screams of pain as muscle and bone were torn. The guy didn't even blink as fingers that could punch holes through steel squeezed him at full strength. "Cut it out," Superman ordered.

"Whatever," Boomer said, rolling his eyes. "You're the one that brought me here without telling me anything. What do you expect, that I'm gonna be nice to these people just because they're your friends or whatever? I don't even know them. I don't even know _you_. I just wanted the answer to one little question and you had to go and make it all so difficult."

"And what question would that be?" Batman asked, stalking a little closer, though still out of handy reach.

Boomer shrugged Superman's hand off his shoulder easily. "I just wanted to know how I was supposed to maintain a secret identity without giving myself away. I've never had to do it before, so I went to the only person I know that's living a double life." He wandered across the room to throw himself backward onto a couch, propping his feet on the table in front of him. He poked at the couch cushions under him. "Hm, this is nice. I guess the superheroing gig pays well in this dimension."

"Dimension? Are you from another dimension?" Batman asked, gliding forward.

"Yep," Boomer said. "I came here for another life and a job. I just wanted to try being a normal human for awhile, but it's actually a lot harder than I expected."

"Great, metahumans from another dimension," Green Lantern muttered.

"Are you attempting to be a superhero here?" Wonder Woman asked.

Boomer laughed. "Who the hell wants to be a superhero? That's a fools game. Nah, I just want to find some kind of career, make some money, and basically be a normal guy for once in my life."

"You really wanna live like that?" Flash asked, his curiosity overriding his healthy fear.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time. And I've already gotten myself a good job at Dekker Games creating computer games. It's actually a pretty fun job. I just have to keep from blowing it and revealing the fact that I'm not quite normal." He raked a hand through his hair. "It's actually a lot harder than I thought it would be, since I've never had to hide my abilities before."

"I thought you might want to ask him some questions," Superman said.

Batman nodded. "Yes."

"You probably just want to make sure I'm not some crazed moron with superpowers bent on the subjugation of mankind."

"Well, are you?" Batman asked.

Boomer smiled, a surprisingly lovely expression. Clark felt something jolt through him that he really didn't want to name at the moment. "I gave up my rebellious stage years ago. Besides, what's the point of using force to take over the world? It would be so much easier just to buy it, and then you don't have to deal with gun-toting rebels armed with self-righteousness and dynamite. Oh, and there's the whole having money thing, which is always of the good when you have a yen for material goods."

Clark snorted a laugh, which really didn't match the front he was putting forward. The sideways glance that Boomer shot him let him know that the other man knew he had broken his cover.

When Batman looked at him, however, Superman straightened and his expression fell into seriousness, his spine straightening and his shoulders squaring. Clark slid back into the recesses of his mind.

"That's a rather Luther way to think, isn't it?" Batman asked dryly.

Boomer made a noncommittal noise. "I wouldn't know. I've never met the man."

Batman growled in his throat. "Where are you from? What kind of dimension?"

"Well, my reality is pretty much like this one, but there aren't so many superheroes running around," Boomer said. "I'm from the city of Townsville myself, and all we really have in the way of superheroes are the Powerpuff Women."

"The 'Powerpuff Women?' What kind of name is that?" Flash asked.

Boomer snorted. "They were originally the Powerpuff Girls, but they chose that name when they were in kindergarten and just starting out as superheroes. And when they grew up, they kept the basic name because of 'product recognition,' as Blossom put it. They just changed 'Girls' to 'Women.' Still, it was a pretty big deal."

"And what did you do there?" Batman asked.

"Well, until I graduated I was going to Townsville University. My brother Brick is a lawyer; he recently passed the Bar. And my other brother, Butch, is a car salesman. He really loves his job, which kind of surprised me because he never seemed like the working sort to me."

"But what about your superpowers? What did you do with them?" Flash asked.

Boomer shrugged. "Nothing, really. I didn't want to be a superhero, and I gave up the supervillain thing when I was about ten years old."

"'Supervillain thing?' What kind of 'supervillain thing?'" Batman asked, obviously raising an eyebrow behind his mask.

"It was a long time ago," Boomer said, "at least fourteen years since the Rowdyruff Boys were causing trouble."

"The 'Rowdyruff Boys?'"

There was the faint hint of a blush across Boomer's cheeks. "We were little kids, and we were supposed to be the antithesis of the Powerpuff Girls. We should have just given up the whole working for evil thing after we died."

"You died?" Superman asked in disbelief, though it was Clark's voice.

"Yeah, just for a year or two. Then Him recreated us and it was like it never happened, though that's when we had our break with Mojo Jojo, the jerk. He was always trying to be our dad, like we needed a loser like that for a father." Boomer rolled his eyes. "Stupid monkey."

"'Recreated' you?" Batman half-asked.

"It was no big deal. The Powerpuff Girls did this whole thing and we were destroyed. It was a bit like sleeping, or something. You know when you're dreaming, and you don't really know that you're dreaming? You just kind of drift along with stuff happening around you and you don't even think about who you are or were? That was kind of how it was. When Him brought us back, it was like waking up. We were always there, we were just unable to do anything."

"I can't believe you were dead," Flash said, having crept up to the couch Boomer was sitting on. He leaned his arm across the back and peered down at Boomer. "What can you do?"

"What do you mean?" Boomer raised an eyebrow.

"Well, it was kind of obvious you have superpowers from the way you came in with Supes, but you could just be able to hold your breath for a really long time or something. Can you do anything else?"

"Just a few things," Boomer said. "Flying, superstrength, heat vision, superspeed, sonic scream, X-ray vision, ice breath, fire breath, just that kind of stuff. My brothers and the Powerpuff Women have the same stuff. It's not a big deal."

"Holy crap, you've got the same powers as Superman," Flash breathed. "Wow. I've never met anyone that had the same kind of stuff as Supes, not even Supergirl does."

Batman was looking at Boomer like he was wondering what he was supposed to do to stop a person with the same basic powers as Superman, but without the weakness.

"Huh, that's cool," Boomer said. "It's not that big a deal, though, since I don't really use them for much. Like I said, I'm playing the role of normal human, which is why I approached Superman today. I just wanted to know how he maintained his secret identity."

"He has a secret identity?" Flash asked. "I didn't know that. He's always just so secretive, him and Batman both."

Boomer winced and gave Superman an apologetic look. "Sorry. I didn't know you were playing the 'I'm just an alien and only an alien' card. I thought you had at least let your team know that you were living a double life. My bad."

Superman sighed. "It's all right, it's not really that big of a secret. I don't advertise, but I don't deny it either."

"Good. Just because I'm trying to set up my own secret identity isn't any reason for me to ruin yours." There was something in the tone of his voice that made Superman shift his feet, spreading his legs a little.

"Why should we trust that you're not here to cause trouble?" Batman asked.

"I don't know." Boomer looked right into Batman's eyes through the mask. "I've been here a couple of months already and I haven't caused any trouble, and I really don't want to. I just want somewhere to hang out for awhile, that's all, and to do that I need some way to kind of fit in. If you don't want to help me, then just say so and I'll try to figure it out on my own. If it had been my choice, I wouldn't have come to you guys anyway.

"I was just asking Superman a few questions about how to maintain a secret identity and the next thing I know, he's dragging me here to you guys. Very much of the unexpected." He tapped his chin with his forefinger. "Still, I guess it's nice to meet you all. I've never seen so many costumes crammed into such a small space and the exoticness of it all is kind of interesting."

"So you went up to Superman to ask how to have a secret identity?" Flash asked disbelievingly.

Boomer nodded. "Pretty much, yeah. I thought the whole double-life thing was going to be easy, but the not using my powers whenever I want to is way harder than I ever imagined. I've just never had to lie about who I am before. It's really weird."

"What's so hard about it?" Diana asked.

Boomer looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "I don't know, Xena, maybe it's the fact that I have to keep myself from flying, from cooking hotdogs with my eyes, from picking up cars and moving them out of my way when some loser steals my parking spot with his big ass SUV-safest vehicle on the road today, pfft-or from teaching some lameass supervillain wannabe terrorizing the city that keeping me from the chocolate ice cream is a bad idea. I don't want to fight anyone. I don't want to cause trouble here. All I want to do is go to my job every day, maybe catch a movie on Saturdays, and just basically live a normal life, but I just don't know how."

"I thought you might want to meet him," Superman said to Batman, cocking his head.

Batman nodded. "Yes."


	2. Two

It was kind of weird how it started, but somehow he and Boomer fell into a habit of hanging out. Clark Kent and Boomer Rowdy became friends and in some way it wasn't even like Superman was there between them, because Boomer didn't even care that he was a world-renowned superhero. It was as though Clark was a normal guy, nothing unusual or special about him. It was oddly relaxing.

They went to movies. They shared their lunch breaks. They played round after round of Mortal Kombat and Jedi Knights on Boomer's beat up X-Box. Their respective coworkers learned to recognize that when Clark showed up at Dekker he was looking for Boomer, and when Boomer showed up at The Daily Planet he was looking for Clark. Their lives began to exist out of each others' pocket, and somehow neither one noticed what was happening between them, what new thing was developing.

It was after he had invited Boomer to Smallville to meet his parents that Clark had to pause and wonder about what he was doing with Boomer. As they were packing up Boomer's car and getting ready to leave the city, Clark had his first inkling about what was growing between him and Boomer.

Without realizing what he was doing, he had introduced Boomer to his most trusted associates to kind of get their approval. Then he had begun hanging out with the guy to the point that he felt totally out of sorts if he passed an entire day without at least seeing Boomer's face or hearing his voice. And now, without realizing the ramifications of what he was doing, he had invited Boomer home to meet his parents. Without knowing it, he had been dating Boomer Rowdy.

Looking at Boomer, who was carefully maneuvering the busy Metropolis traffic, Clark was struck again by the complete flawlessness of Boomer's face. He had grown used to the fact that he had what were considered phenomenal good looks, but he had never met anyone that matched him so perfectly as Boomer did.

"Are you nervous?" he asked.

Boomer looked at him questioningly. "What do you mean?"

Clark shrugged, feeling a blush rise to stain his cheeks. If there was ever anyone that made him feel completely human and flawed, then it was Boomer. "I don't know. I just really want my parents to like you."

Boomer smiled. "Don't worry. I may never have had real parents of my own, but I promise not to pick my nose or put my elbow in the mashed potatoes as I scratch my ass."

Clark snorted a laugh, unable to help himself. Sure, sometimes Boomer's sense of humor was a little crude or his choice of language made the Smallville born and raised portion of Clark wince, but more often than not he just had to laugh, if a little naughtily. "I wasn't thinking anything like that," he said. "I just... I want my parents to like you and for you to like my parents."

"Really, man, don't worry. If they were the people that formed you into the man you are today, then there's no way I won't like them," Boomer said. "And I honestly promise not to be a complete asshole when I meet them and I will try my hardest to make a good impression."

Unable to help himself, Clark reached out and patted Boomer's shoulder. "I don't want you to act like anyone other than yourself. Just be Boomer Rowdy and don't pretend at anyone else. They'll either like you or not, but I like you regardless."

Boomer looked surprised for a second, then smiled brightly. Clark's breath caught a little. Even though Boomer smiled at him often, it was rare that he would smile so wholeheartedly and without the snark anywhere in view. "Okay, so I guess we're going to have a good time at your parents'. I was kind of worried there for a moment, but not anymore."

Clark laughed a little.

Being around Boomer made him feel a sense of contentment he hadn't felt since he was fifteen years old and found out that he wasn't human and never would be. For the first time in his life he didn't have to spend every moment worrying that he might accidentally hurt someone with his superstrength, because not even Kara or Kon-El could match him blow for blow without taking some damage. Boomer though...

The guy was as strong, if not stronger than Clark, yet he was still a completely normal person, not letting his abilities make him believe that he was better than the people around him, and all he wanted was to live a normal life.

Reaching forward to switch on the radio, Clark couldn't help a happy sigh. Somehow, without his even knowing it, he had found something he had spent his whole life looking for. And even if they only stayed friends for the rest of their lives, it would be enough.  
.

It took them nearly two and a half hours to reach Smallville by car. It would have been much faster to fly, but the time spent together, even without talking, was well worth it.

Once they had parked, they each grabbed a bag out of the trunk and headed toward the front porch. Before they got there, the door opened and a gray haired woman stepped out. "Clark!" Her smile was unabashedly bright.

Dropping his bags at the top of the porch stairs, Clark wrapped his arms around the woman and hugged her. "Mom."

No matter how often he saw her, Clark couldn't help the happiness that went through him when he saw his mother. She was one of the most important people in his life and even if he saw her every day of his life, he would always feel as though he didn't see her often enough.

"Oh Clark, it's so good to see you," Martha said.

Clark held her arm as he gestured Boomer forward. "Mom, I want you to meet someone. This is my friend Boomer Rowdy. Boomer, this is my mother, Martha Kent."

Boomer offered his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Kent. You would not believe how often Clark mentions you in his day-to-day conversations."

Taking his hand, Martha laughed a little and shot a sly glance at a blushing Clark. He may have been deep into his twenties, but he was still her son and would always have that kind of unflappable innocence about him. "Well, my son has always been a good boy," she said.

Boomer grinned. "That he is."

"Why don't the two of you come inside," Martha said, heading toward the door. "You're both probably starving for a good meal or three."

"That's why I brought him, Ma," Clark said, carrying his bags after her. "You would not believe some of the stuff Boomer tries to pass off as a balanced meal. I thought he should probably have at least one good meal before he died of malnutrition."

Boomer snorted and Clark looked back over his shoulder to wink at him.

For weeks Clark had been thinking about how he wanted to introduce Boomer to his parents. He had imagined Boomer meeting his mother and father and hoping that they would all get along.

Though Martha had favored him, Jonathan had never managed to like Lex no matter how hard the Luthor scion tried. Now Clark was sincerely hoping that both of his parents would get along with Boomer and that they would like him enough to invite him back.

Following his mother into the kitchen, Clark breathed in the welcoming scent of good food cooking. His stomach rumbled a little at the smell and he couldn't help his happy grin at the thought of Boomer actually eating some good food.

He may have been tweaking Boomer about his bad food habit like it was just some joke to be laughed at, but he really did worry about him. He didn't like the thought of Boomer living on junk food and soda and just the thought of him being able to have one good meal brought him a modicum of comfort.

If food equaled love, then Boomer's life had been sadly lacking in both, and was it any wonder that Clark wanted his friend to have better in the future? Even if the elder Kents didn't like Boomer and all he got out of this visit was a full belly, at least Clark could relax with the knowledge that at least he wasn't going to starve physically as well as emotionally.

***

Having never had real parents before, Boomer felt a little strange about being in the presence of three people that so obviously loved each other as much as the Kents did. Seeing Clark with his mother and father, it just felt right; this was exactly where Clark belonged. It was kind of an honor to think that he had been invited to bask in the perfect togetherness, as though if he wanted it enough they could be his family too.

"So, Boomer, what do you do?" Jonathan asked. He really wasn't sure what to think about the too-handsome blond, but at least it wasn't Lex Luthor.

"I work for Dekker Games as a programmer. It's actually kind of a fun job, which I really kind of wasn't expecting."

"Well, that's nice," Martha said cheerfully. "And how did you meet Clark?"

"Oh, he was doing the Superman thing and the guy pulled out some glowing green rock and I had to save him," Boomer said without thinking, then gasped a little and looked at Clark. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that. I'm just really not used to the whole idea of secret identities and..."

Clark held up his hand. "It's all right, Boomer, really. My parents kind of know that I have superpowers. You're just going to have to remember not to do that around other people, that's all."

Boomer nodded. "I won't, really man. Sorry."

"Son..." Jonathan said in question, looking at Clark.

"Oops," Clark said, giving his parents an apologetic look. "Sorry, I kind of forgot that I didn't tell you that Boomer knows my secret identity."

"What... How could you tell him?" Martha asked, her hands rising to her mouth. She looked so frightened that Boomer had the odd desire to comfort her, but Clark got there first.

"Mom, don't worry," he said. "Boomer... well, he's special, like me."

"What do you mean, son?" Jonathan asked, setting down his glass with a dull "THUNK."

"He has a lot of the same powers as me, Dad," Clark said. "For the first time in my life, I can be with someone and not feel like a total freak."

"What about Kara and..."

Clark shook his head. "No. Neither one of them have as much power as I do. They're... like weaker copies. Boomer though... he can take whatever I dish out and give it right back."

Looking at Boomer, Clark could tell that the guy was a little embarrassed, but he was actually holding up under all the attention pretty well, considering this was his first time meeting Martha and Jonathan Kent.

"How..." Martha paused a second to better organize her thoughts, then turned to Boomer. "Where are you from? How did you meet Clark?"

Boomer shrugged and set down his fork. "He was getting his ass... uh... he was having a hard time subduing some guy that had a handful of kryptonite. I stepped in, and that's basically it. I'm from another reality and had only been on your Earth for a little while when I met Clark. And when I was having trouble maintaining the whole idea of a secret identity, I asked him for help."

"So... why are you here, in our reality?" Martha asked, sounding only a little nervous. The Earth had had a hard time with Superman and alternate realities in the past.

"I was looking for someplace where I could make a new life for myself, start over with a blank slate. It was only luck that I met Clark at all, since I was trying to avoid everything to do with metahumans here and pretend to be as normal as possible. But I'm glad I met him." His eyes cut to Clark, a faint smile quirking his lips.

Clark felt a surge of warmth go through him.

There had been times when people had been attracted to him as Clark Kent, and there had been times when people had been attracted to him as Superman. But there was no one in the world that had ever known to be attracted to him as both, so Boomer's blatant unconcern over his status as world's greatest superhero and mid-level reporter was actually mildly wonderful. It made Clark feel normal in a way he hadn't ever experienced before, because even if he hadn't known he was an alien as a child, he had still had to deal with the whole thinking he was a freak-factor.

"I'm glad I met you too," Clark said, and didn't even feel like a complete dork for the girly sentiment.

"Here, why don't you have some more potatoes," Martha said, her eyes flicking from Boomer to her son and back.

"I should probably say no, that I'm too full..." Boomer grinned. "But that'd be a fib, and I'm learning that lies are bad. Besides, you make the creamiest mashed potatoes ever."

"I told you my mom cooked good," Clark said.

Boomer curled his lip at him, but his eyes laughed. "Way to show off that journalism degree there, Clark."

Clark was honestly tempted to throw a dinner roll at him, but he knew his mother would get upset. It took some amazing self-control, but he refrained from beaning Boomer on the head. He would save the feeling for later, when there weren't any moms around to bust him.

Looking around the table, surrounded by family, Clark felt contentment surge through him. He had always dreamed of a meal like this, his family and someone he might possibly grow to love getting along as though it was meant to be.

Jonathan had never liked Lex, and after some of the shit Lex had pulled, Martha couldn't get comfortable around him. So whenever Clark had invited Lex over for dinner or drinks, everything had been completely uncomfortable.

But here and now, Boomer was fitting in as though he belonged. He was laughing and joking with Martha, and even the fact that he had to sometimes stop himself from swearing was endearing, because he wanted to stop himself from swearing. And even though he wasn't saying anything about it, Jonathan seemed to actually enjoy Boomer's presence at the table.

Reaching out, Clark scooped some more peas on his plate. He could feel the dumb smile wanting to take over his face and right now he really didn't care. He was actually happy.

***

"Can you believe this shit?" Butch complained. "How many worlds have we visited so far?"

"Twenty-nine," Brick said, "and stop bitching about it. We're looking for Boomer and we're gonna keep on looking until we find him and make sure he's all right."

"I don't know why he had to leave." Butch stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he took in their current surroundings. They seemed to be in a cemetery at night.

Brick shrugged. "He just felt like he didn't really belong. You know how upset he was getting about not having a job or anything really to do. He's just looking for a purpose, and we weren't really helping him any."

Butch sighed. "This whole thing just sucks so bad."

"Yeah. I really don't know..." Whatever Brick was about to say was interrupted by screams and the meaty THUD-THUD-THWAP of fists hitting flesh and the scuffle of feet against the grass.

They looked at each other quickly, then ducked behind a tombstone, peeking over the edge to see what was happening.

"Wow, she's good," Brick said in admiration.

They watched as a tiny blond woman faced down six guys in leather jackets with really deformed faces. She was flinging herself through the air as though she was attached to wires, her fists, feet and elbows impacting hard against her attackers.

"Maybe we should help her," Butch said.

"Nah, it looks like she's got it covered," Brick said, pointing.

The blond rolled sideways and grabbed a stick off the ground. A fierce, teeth-baring grin twisted her mouth as she donkey kicked one of her attackers away, then flipped back onto her feet to slam her stick into the chest of a brown haired creature. His mouth opened in a soundless scream as PUMF! he turned to dust.

"All right, no more Miss Nice Guy. You guys are gonna be decorating the inside of a vacuum bag." She spun and flipped and twisted through the air and her stick went PUMPF! PUMPF! PUMPF! until they were all gone and she stood alone, the first cloud of dust still falling, the others trailing after.

She made a pleased sound and dusted off her hands. "Yep, I still got it." She walked away whistling.

Brick stood and flew over to where the dust piles were. "I don't think Boomer would stay on a world like this."

"I think those guys were vampires," Butch said.

"Yeah, and Boomer would so not be down with that. Come on," Brick said. "Let's move on to the next world. We can probably do two more tonight before we have to get home."

Butch yawned and stretched. "All right, but they better be quick worlds. I need me some beauty sleep before work tomorrow. Nobody's gonna buy a car from a guy that looks like he just dragged himself out from under a rock."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used a lot of ellipses (ellipsi? what?) and I would just like to apologize for my weakness to the fabulous ... I just can't help myself.

Meeting Clark's parents made him really think for the first time about all the things he had missed out on in his childhood. Sure, he'd had awesome superpowers, but there hadn't really been any real parental figures anywhere in evidence, just him and his brothers.

Mojo-Jojo had tried for awhile to be a father to them, but that was just a pathetic joke. And whatever Him had taught them... was better left forgotten.

Sighing, he rested his cheek against his hand and leaned his elbow against his desk, his eyes sleepy and faraway.

"What, where's the work happening here?"

He turned his head to look at Joe Eppes, his fellow programmer. "Do you ever regret all the things you never had?"

Joe raised a questioning brow. "Huh?"

Boomer shrugged. "Naw, it's all right." He slid his chair back and stood. "I'm goin' across the street to Starbucks. You want anything?"

Joe shook his head. "I'm good. One more cup of the Java Devil and I'll be crawling the walls. Plus, the wife really doesn't like it when I get home just in time to bottom out. She likes a little action before I lose consciousness."

Boomer mock-shuddered. "TMI, man, TMI. There are just some things you don't want to learn about your straight friend's sex life... like the sex part."

Sometimes Boomer felt as though there was a pane of frosted glass between him and the rest of the world. People were moving around on the other side, their mouths moving as they talked, but there was no sound and nothing could ever touch him. And no matter how hard he pretended that everything was all right... it probably wasn't.

That was what he liked about Clark. The guy made him feel real in some way, solid and anchored to reality in a way he hadn't been in a long time.

He had left Townsville and all the memories behind because there were just some things he had needed but hadn't been able to find.

Wandering into Starbucks for a quadruple-shot mocha--about the only thing that could get him even a little bit buzzing--he wondered where his life was going.

The girl at the counter shot him a dazzlingly bright smile. "Hey, Boomer!"

He pretended that he didn't have to read her name tag. "Hey, Cindy. Can I get one of my usual?"

"Sure!"

That was one of the things he had never liked about being a genetically perfect specimen. Sometimes he really didn't want to be flirted with and gushed over, but it wasn't like there was anything he could do to stop it. He didn't have a ring on his finger, and even then that seldom helped.

Putting a vague and distant expression on his face, he gave negative and positive grunts to her questions about his job, his life, and even what TV he watched. She was seriously fishing, but seemed incapable of realizing that he totally wasn't interested.

He was just taking his coffee from her when the door opened with a jingle of bells and he felt that familiar quiver in the bottom of his belly and the pleasant burn of eyes on the back of his neck.

Turning, he smiled. "Clark."

Wearing his glasses and one of those cheap suits he favored in his mild-mannered newspaper man persona, Clark still managed to flash him a killer smile. He could feel himself practically melt into a heap on the floor. This was what he wanted, needed. This was the man whose presence he wanted to bathe himself in.

"I went to your work, but Joe said you were over here for refueling. Wanna go to lunch?"

"I don't know... are you buying?" He couldn't help the flirty tone to his voice and knew the girl behind him heard it from her slight gasp and the sudden shuffle of her moving off to pretend to be busy. He could practically feel the burn of her embarrassment and foolish pain as she realized that she had never had a chance with him in even her wildest dreams.

"I'll pay for lunch if you go to dinner with me," Clark offered.

Boomer shot him a suspicious look. "I sense some kind of ham-handed plot afoot. What's the dinner catch?"

Clark looked down and shuffled his feet in his best "Aw shucks" manner. Boomer was not fooled and intensified his glare until Clark answered truthfully. "Bruce invited us. He wants to get to know you better."

"You mean he wants to interrogate me and plans on using gourmet food as a cover." Boomer sipped at his coffee. "All right. There's plenty of things I'm willing to do for a good meal, and answering a couple of probing questions..." He shrugged. "Really not such a big deal. Just as long as he doesn't try to dissect me or anything."

Clark gave a nervous little laugh that almost made Boomer want to change his mind. Almost.

.

Dinner in Gotham at Wayne Manor... it should have been funny, but oddly wasn't.

Sitting at a forbiddingly formal table with Bruce Wayne, his adopted son and heir Dick Grayson, his proteges Tim Drake and Cassandra Cain, and the beautiful and oddly tragic Barbara Gordon. It might have been just another awkward social situation if Boomer hadn't known he was surrounded by the Bat Clan, their outward civility a complete facade for the hard-working heroes inside.

Boomer made it through the soup and salad and was halfway into the main course before he finally couldn't stand it anymore and threw caution to the wind. "So, are we just going to keep pretending that this isn't what it is?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Bruce asked in that obnoxiously bubble-headed voice he had adopted for the evening.

"Come on, man, here I am with the whole Bat Clan--sipping soup and gnawing on roast pork--and I'm supposed to pretend that I totally don't know who you are? And by the way, why's he here?"

"He" was the boy Tim Drake had introduced as Connor Kent, but who Boomer had recognized as Kon-El, otherwise known as Superboy.

"'He's' here to find out if you're good enough for Clark," Kon said, slamming his fork down on the table. Now that he didn't have to pretend anymore, he was giving Boomer a wonderfully dark look into teenaged angst. There was nothing like finding out your progenitor was well on his way into a gay relationship to make you consider your own sexuality.

Boomer snorted. "Of course I'm not good enough for Clark," he said. "Nobody's good enough for Clark... with his white bread background, perfect family, and his status as greatest hero on Earth. But really... I come pretty damn close."

"And how's that?" Kon demanded.

"Because we have fun. I make him laugh. He doesn't have to hide who he is from me. I'm strong enough that he doesn't have to worry about accidentally crushing me just by touching my hand. Oh yeah, and I'm totally hot."

He could feel the burn of Clark's embarrassment next to him and it made him want to laugh. There was nothing like embarrassing a man in front of his parents, though embarrassing him in front of his friends was a pretty close second.

"Well... Ah... You seem almost frighteningly honest," Dick said with a sudden strange quirk to his lips.

Boomer grinned at him. "I think that if I need to lie about who I am, then there's something wrong with the world, right? I mean, I was born... well, created... like this. So why should I have to pretend to be anything other than what I am for the mental well-being of other people? I mean, screw them."

"So what does that make you think about me hiding the fact that I'm Superman?" Clark asked.

Boomer reached out to touch his hand. "I think you're brave to sacrifice so much for the love of your family. But I'm also a little worried about how you turn 'Clark Kent' into this bumbling dork just to protect the fact that you're Superman. I mean, he's the assumed identity, so I don't know why you have to be the one to pay the price. Maybe Superman could be the geek for once."

Clark looked at him in wide-eyed amazement for a long moment, then suddenly grinned. He turned to his clone-son. "See? This is why I lo... like this man. He likes me for me. Not like Lois and her obsession with the cape."

"I really like the skintight spandex though," Boomer said with a cheeky grin that only widened when Clark blushed.

"Who the hell are you?" Kon demanded, slamming his water glass down with a splintering crackle that soaked his napkin.

"What do you mean? I'm pretty sure your boy there gave you the whole rundown on who I am and where I came from," Boomer said, jerking his chin toward Tim.

Kon snorted. "Yeah, he told me the story. But I don't believe any of it. Like anyone could just one day decide they want to leave their whole world behind to come here. I mean, why would anyone want to do that?"

"Maybe I just got tired of how my world treated me and my brothers and I wanted to see what it was like to be just another anonymous person? I never made any great plans to meet anyone like Clark, so I was pretty sure I was going to live a life of latent obscurity, just one more person amongst billions."

"That seems pretty lame. You have all kinds of awesome powers, and what? You want to live in a rattrap apartment eating pizza and watching porn? Really?" Kon asked.

Boomer shrugged. "I had the whole infamous thing going for me. I thought it would be cool just trying to be a regular Joe for awhile, even if it didn't last forever."

"Still. You exile yourself from your own world and come here? Don't you miss everyone and everything you left behind? Won't you feel bad about never seeing them again?" Kon asked.

"What are you talking about?" Boomer asked. "I can go home and visit my family any time I want."

"Wait, so you brought your machine with you?" Tim asked, leaning forward curiously.

"Machine? What machine?" Boomer was genuinely confused. "What kind of guy do you think I am? I brought myself here."

"Whoa, how did you do that?" Kon asked.

Boomer didn't really see what the big deal was, though it was obvious that these guys had never experienced the kind of powers the Rowdyruff Boys and the Powerpuff Girls had always just kind of taken for granted. "I just kind of vibrated my body so fast that it created a hole through the dimensional walls, then I just passed through. It's really not that hard, believe me. Time travel is more difficult."

"How is that possible?" Barbara Gordon asked. She glanced at Clark. "Are you able to travel through time and go to other worlds too?"

Clark shrugged. "Um, maybe? I've never really tried to do anything like that, so I don't really know. But I guess it's theoretically possible. I would just have to move so fast I basically violated the laws of physics."

"Violated," Boomer snerked, then had to grin when he saw Clark's blush in return. There was something so endearing about Clark's small town sensibilities, which were largely intact even after years of living in the big city of Metropolis.

"So, what's going on between you two?" Kon asked suspiciously.

"What do you mean?" Clark asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Please. I may not be the brightest bulb in the package, but I'm not completely ignorant. I can see the sexual tension from a mile away."

"Sexual tension? What do you mean?" Clark asked.

Kon raised one eyebrow, looking surprisingly like his gene-father Superman. "You guys look like you're about a heartbeat away from fucking like rabbits."

"Language, Mr. Kon,"Alfred said sternly, coming into the dining room pushing a cart with a covered tray. "Dessert," he announced to the room at large.

It was lucky the butler came in when he did, 'cause Boomer was about to bean Kon in the head with a dinner roll for being such a little asshole. Not even knowing that he and his brothers' had been about two thousand times worse made it any better.

There was a reason he didn't have any kids, and his interest in other men was only part of it.

.

Over dessert, Boomer had to fight to keep from glaring at the little brat, who was still making sotto voce comments to Tim Drake about his progenitor and "the crazy dude from another dimension."

It was a real struggle to keep from smacking the kid's face. Though he bet if he did end up hitting him, the kid would get a real shock.

Kon, as the clone-twin of Superman, had probably never really experienced the joy of being a normal kid. Sure, he'd walked around humans and tried to pass himself off as one of them, but when you possessed superpowers there was just this sense of entitlement that you couldn't help getting.

Boomer remembered the first time he'd had his face rubbed in the fact that he was really just a kid. He and his brothers had been created with the idea built into their brains that they could pretty much do whatever, whenever they wanted. So that first smack down had been the most unbelievable shock of his life.

So knowing that he had powers comparable to Superman's, Boomer knew that Kon had probably never been the "normal" one in any situation. But Boomer had grown up with two brothers with nearly all the same powers, and a world that possessed the Powerpuff Girls.

To him, Kon was nothing but another punk kid. One who was currently acting like a spoiled brat and putting him in a fairly bad mood.

"What are your opinions on child abuse?" he asked Clark, low-voiced.

Clark looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Boomer smirked at him. "I mean, I'm about to beat your mini-me's ass over there."

Clark glanced at Kon, then gave Boomer a worried look. "He's just a kid. Ignore him."

"I'm just a kid with superhearing," Kon suddenly said loudly, glaring across the table at him. "If you're going to try talking about me, you might as well take it to the next state, 'cause I can hear you perfectly right here."

"And I really don't give a damn," Boomer said. "You've been acting like a pain in the ass all night. What is your problem with me, seriously?"

Kon glared at him so hard he half expected his shirt to suddenly catch on fire. "I'm not stupid," he growled. "I can see what you're doing."

"What do you mean?" Boomer asked.

Kon scoffed. "You're totally putting the moves on Clark. And he's such an innocent farm hick that he doesn't even realize what you're trying to do. But I'm not that stupid."

"Stupid? Did you really just call me stupid?" Clark's tone was mild, but there was a hard glint in his eyes.

Boomer looked down the table and saw that Bruce was sitting back in his chair watching things unfold in front of him. The guy was obviously not going to say anything unless things got completely out of control. "Look kid," Boomer gave Kon a stern look, "you're just a kid. So why don't you take a step back and mind your own business?"

"This is my business," Kon growled, slapping the table hard enough to send glasses tumbling over, water and wine splashing everywhere. "Clark is... He's my family. So if you're messing around with him and thinking you're going to... I don't know, do some crazy gay stuff with him then run off, then you're a complete idiot!"

Boomer stared at him for a long moment. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah I'm serious. You're trying to take advantage of Clark and there's no way I'm going to let you get away with it."

Boomer had to pause and draw in a deep breath. "I wasn't going to go into my relationship with Clark, but you need a real wake up call."

"What do you mean?"

"In case you somehow didn't notice, Clark is a grown ass man. He can make his own decisions without you getting in the way." He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Besides, he's the cutest guy I know and I'm happy being the peanut butter to his jelly. So why don't you back off and wait to find out if I'm going to break his heart before you do it for me?"

Kon pointed an accusing finger. "There, you just admitted you're going to break his heart!"

"Really? That's what you got from that?" Boomer glanced at the embarrassed looking Clark, who shrugged.

"I think he watched too much TV," Clark said.

There was so much emotion bubbling up in Boomer's chest that he wasn't sure what he was feeling, except the idea of hitting something-- _someone_ \--suddenly appealed to a worrying degree. Having had to deal with his anger management issues, he knew when he was about to do something unforgivable. And knowing himself, he knew when he was about to lose control.

Boomer pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. "I can't be here right now. I'll see you later, Clark. I'm going home."

He could hear Clark's entreaties behind him, but by the time anyone thought to move he was already out of the house and on his way back to Metropolis. There was something freeing about letting the speed take him, moving so fast that he had to leave the frustration and anger behind.


End file.
